Trust Me
by Mignun
Summary: "It's not a possibility when you have Thorin guiding you. Trust me, Hermione, you'll be safe. I promise," he had said. Hermione, however, knew that he'd be wrong. Hermione/Kíli
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is a bit different than my last story, as I truly didn't know what to do. I apologize for deleting Traversing East, but I didn't like what I had written. It has taken me days just to get this chapter thought out and written. I can't even begin to explain how many drafts there have been. All I know is that I wanted Bofur as her father (for reason explained later) and that she will have a love interest. Yes she is a dwarf and no she doesn't have a beard (personally because I can't picture Hermione with a beard and another backstory that will come out). Okay, now I'm done rambling, so move on to the story. Hopefully this new story piques your attention. Please, read and review. Tell me what you think!

** Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. If I did, well, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

* * *

**Chapter One**

She tried her best to ignore the massaging fingers, as she didn't want to start moaning at the dinner table. The perpetrator in question acted as if he didn't know what was going on, his eyes fixated on the ruckus in front of him. Time after time Hermione pushed his hand away, but it would soon come back in full force, gliding over the curve of her thigh, teasing her endlessly. She tried to retaliate by doing the same thing to him, but every time she leaned over, she'd catch her Da staring at her in curiosity and ask what was going on. Kíli smirked before giving her thigh a tight, teasing squeeze, knowing damn well that her father couldn't see what he was doing to his daughter.

"Would you stop?" she hissed in his ear, but the bastard had the nerve to smile at her frustration. He leaned over to give her a quick peck on the cheek (unseen by most of the Company) before they were interrupted by Fíli stomping all over the food, asking who wanted ale. Hermione huffed, going back to her mashed potatoes and actually wished her father was paying attention so that he'd give the young dwarf prince a fierce glare.

"Never," came the cheeky response, and Hermione thought she'd scream right there. She badly wanted to smack him upside the head for the way he was acting, but she knew she couldn't without making a scene. So instead the young dwarf lass rested her hand on his thigh and gave it a very harsh grasp. He jerked in his seat, fell out of the chair, and onto the ground. The entire Company began laughing at the fallen dwarf, many of them thinking he was drunk out of his mind, thinking very little about him. Bofur, however, eyed his daughter and her intended with sharp eyes, but Hermione just shrugged before helping Kíli back into the chair. Coldly he said, "that wasn't fair."

"Just like you unable to keep your grubby hands off of me," she replied snidely, moving her chair closer to Ori and away from the overly touchy dwarf lad. Kíli huffed before taking his ale into his hand and told readying the others to down their tankards. Hermione watched in mild disgust as each dwarf crudely downed his ale, getting the liquid nearly all over the place. Not one could keep it in his mouth, using his beard as a way to stop the ale from getting on his clothes. With a sigh, Hermione turned to Ori for some decency, but the dwarf had the nerve to burp right in front of her face. Furious, Hermione stood up from her seat and walked out of the dining room, ignoring the apology from Ori and the calls from the dwarves.

"Damn dwarves," she muttered under her breath as she made her way to the foyer. Pushing the numerous items the dwarves dropped to the ground, she came across her tattered traveling pack. Kneeling on the ground, she opened it up and began taking out some items. Clothes, trinkets, and salves...she took each item out and placed it on the ground. The dwarf lass failed to hear the booted footsteps behind her. It wasn't until she felt firm arms wrapped around her torso did she realize she was being followed. With a soft groan, she leaned back into his touch, eyes closed.

"What do we have here?" his deep voice asked, and Hermione sighed internally when she felt his chin rest on top of her head. She snuggled into his chest, resting her tired body against his. "I think we have a very angry dwarrowdam within our midst. Tell me, what has you riled up?"

Hermione truthfully didn't know how to answer, for she had many things on her mind. The first was the entire quest by itself, going on the journey with her family and her intended. Secondly, she was still annoyed that her family, the brothers Ri, and the brothers In decided to fall right on top of each other, her at the bottom. Her annoyance peaked during dinner when said intended couldn't keep his hands to himself, embarrassing her not only because he was drunk but performed a normally private encounter with so many witnesses to see. Now she felt relaxed against Kíli's body, glad to be out of the stuffy dining room and just alone.

With a tut, she replied in earnest, "everything."

"Everything she says! Why, that has to be the most outlandish thing you have ever said to me," came his response. Hermione snorted and leaned forward to re-fold her crumpled tunics. Kíli, all the while, watched her anxiously, his arms never leaving her waist. "I'm serious, Hermione. What's the matter?"

"This quest," she said so quietly that he had to strain his hearing to hear her. "I'm nervous about this bloody quest. It's not everyday a young dwarrowdam like me goes off to slay a dragon. It seems almost surreal."

He hugged her closer to his body before placing a kiss atop of her head. "You'll be fine," he promised. "You'll be with everyone you love."

"That's another problem, Kíli," she told him, eyes narrowed at the wall in front of her. Her thoughts went back to the fact that everyone she did love was on the quest, a quest they could possibly die on. She voiced her opinion to him, but he merely shook his head against her's in disbelief. "Don't give me that. You know that dying is a possibility."

"It's not a possibility when you have Thorin guiding you. Trust me, Hermione, you'll be safe. I promise."

Hermione didn't reply; instead she continued to clean out her pack on the foyer floor. Kíli harrumphed, taking out his pipe from his coat pocket, lighting it in the process. The young dwarf stood up from his seat on the floor and moseyed over to the kitchen where Bofur stared at him incredulously. The father did not seem happy with the young prince, with his eyes narrowed and lips turned downward.

"What were yeh discussing with Hermione?" Bofur asked, picking up a strange dishcloth with holes in it.

Kíli shrugged before replying. "She's just upset about the quest, that's all."

The father's eyes softened for a moment. "Well, thank ye for talking to her. She's been like tha' for the past few days. Can barely get her to talk."

They were interrupted when the hobbit took the doily from Bofur, explaining that it was in fact not a dishcloth but crochet. The hobbit sighed from Bofur's response ("fun game, too, if yeh got the balls for it!"), moving towards the foyer where Hermione was. At the sudden intrusion, Hermione stuffed the rest of her items into her pack and stood up to face the hobbit. She could see how annoyed he was, and she couldn't blame him. While the dwarves acted like themselves, it would be obvious that other races wouldn't...understand them.

"What say you, Master Hobbit?" she asked when she thought he was about to explode. The hobbit tutted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is everything okay?"

"Okay? Okay? You ask if everything is okay? Nothing is okay as I have a number of unruly dwarves making a mess of my smial! I am far from okay!" he replied with a huff. Hermione grit her teeth, embarrassed by how her fellow companions were acting. With a swift wave of her hand, she cast a small Cheering Charm to get the hobbit feeling better. Within moments he did, gazing towards her in question. "What on earth did you just do?"

"Just a simple Cheering Charm. Gandalf didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

But they were soon interrupted by Ori, asking what to do with his plate. Fíli butted in, taking the plate from the youngest dwarf and threw it to Kíli, who stood outside of the kitchen. With a twist of his body, Kíli threw the plate into the kitchen where Bifur waited. Hermione watched in amusement as her fellow dwarves began playing an old game, an old dwarf tradition that happened whenever a friend visited a new home. In delight, Hermione took a plate off the table and threw it to Kíli (who began to sing), forgetting the upset hobbit behind her.

Soon the entire household was in merriment, singing about what Bilbo Baggins hated. Hermione joined in with her fellow companions, giggling here and loudly laughing there. At the end of the singing, all of the plates were stacked neatly in front of Gandalf, much to the annoyance of the hobbit. Laughing hysterically, Hermione leaned against her father, catching her breath. It wasn't until there was a knock at the door when the merriment died down.

"He's here," came Gandalf's grave response.

Soon the smial was dead quiet as Gandalf opened the door, revealing Thorin. The dwarf, dressed in the finest cloak, stared at Gandalf with distaste. "Gandalf," he greeted, and the wizard allowed him through the threshold. Hermione held her breath, taking in the sight of a familiar face. Where she was used to a much more jovial Thorin (as she was only around him with Kíli), she wasn't used to the grave face he wore that night. "I lost my way, twice."

If it was any other dwarf she would have laughed, but she kept her mouth shut as she rested her body against Kíli's. The young dwarf lad smiled down at her with a cheeky grin. Patting him on the chest, Hermione turned her attention back to Thorin who stared at them with a small smile on his face. Relieved, Hermione smacked Kíli once more, that time on the arm, when his hand left her back and dipped lower.

"Stop it," she hissed, as Thorin began to assess the hobbit. To Thorin, and Hermione had to agree, the hobbit seemed more like a grocer than fighter. When asked about axes or sword, Hermione wasn't surprised when he answered that he could play a mean game of conkers when needed. Kíli laughed to himself, amused by the tiny hobbit, his hand still resting on Hermione's behind.

"Sorry," he replied, moving his hand up on her back, albeit slowly. Hermione rolled her eyes but continued resting on the young prince.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **I don't know if anyone is noticing, but this is mainly a cute, fluffy story. I really enjoy fluff, hence why there's a lot of childish bantering between Hermione and Kíli. I'm just having a lot of fun writing them together. Really, they're adorable in my head. As for Hermione's story, that'll come later, don't worry. So far I'm just trying to get the ball rolling. The first few chapters are always hard, with me especially. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the chapter. Again, please review for any criticism or concerns (or just to tell me you like it).

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Hermione rolled over in her sleep and tried to ignore the snoring coming from her Da. Sighing, she hoisted herself up and out of her bedroll, quite glad to be off the floor. Around her were dwarves, all sleeping and snoring just like her Da, haphazardly strewn about the living room. Each set of brothers were grouped together, snuggled next to each other with limbs stretched out all over the place. The only one safe from the large pile was Thorin, who opted to nestle comfortably in the sofa Bilbo had. The king lay on his back, hands folded neatly on top of his chest. Hermione stared down at the peaceful king, glad that he didn't wear such a grave expression whilst sleeping.

Only one bedroll remained empty, and she followed sounds coming from the kitchen. There she spotted Dori going about his business while making some tea. The grey haired dwarf shot her an amused smile before going back to his kettle. Hermione sat down at the kitchen table, where Dori set down a hot cup of tea in front of her.

"I'm surprised that one of you youngsters is up so early. Everyone else is passed out," he commented lightly, sitting down in front of her. Hermione shrugged. "I was about to wake everyone up, but I figured that a little lie in before the adventure was in order." He smiled grimly. "Just don't tell Thorin that."

"My lips are sealed," Hermione replied, pretending to zip her mouth in the process. Dori beamed at her before offering more tea, but Hermione's stomach growled in protest. "You don't have anything to eat, have you?"

Dori got up from his seat and went over to the near empty larder. Towards the back of the pantry were two bags of apples, ignored from last night. Taking one bag, Dori hefted it onto his shoulders and retreated back to the kitchen. There he opened the bag and handed Hermione two apples and placed the rest of the fruit on a nice china plate. Hermione nodded at him in thanks before taking a bite out of the apple. Dori clucked when the juice dribbled down her chin and onto her tunic, but Hermione was quick to clean her chin up with a swipe of her sleeve. Dori sent a disapproving look.

"What?" Hermione asked innocently, knowing very well that the older dwarf wished to mother-hen her. With a steely glare, the grey hair dwarf tutted before going back to the chimney, where a new batch of water boiled.

It wasn't until ten minutes later when a new dwarf bounded into the room, hair a mess. Kíli, the dwarf that could never tame his wild hair, sauntered into the room and demanded food. It wasn't until a quick smack (a habit Hermione had developed over the years), he was reminded that Dori wasn't his personal chef and that he shouldn't be so loud. The young prince pouted before leaning across the table (and purposely over Hermione) to grab a green apple off of the plate Dori had put them on. The grey haired dwarf huffed before leaving the kitchen to try to see if he could fix the plumbing, mumbling that it was to be used.

"Really, must you go about hitting me?" Kíli asked through a mouthful of apple. Hermione nodded fervently, taking a bite out of her own apple. Kíli was not amused. "People would think you're abusive."

"Yet, I'm not the only one who smacks you around whenever you do something wrong," she pointed out. "Take last night for example. You kept..." There she couldn't find the right words. "You kept manhandling me in front of everyone! Don't you understand how embarrassing that is? We aren't even married for Äule's sake, and you go about doing something private in front of everyone! You should be thankful that Thorin didn't see or say anything."

"I didn't do anything last night I don't normally do," he replied, confused. "You always enjoy it whenever I tease you. You encourage it?"

Hermione brought a hand to her forehead, wondering if he even paid attention to what she said. "While yes, I enjoy it when you massage me, but that's whenever we're alone. Alone is stressed here. Out in public it's seen as a scandalous thing to do, and we were in public last night. For Merlin's sake, now, you teased me in front of my Da! Don't you know how big of a deal that it? It's wrong and quite unnerving. I wish us to be proper."

"But we've already done so much, how can you possibly feel that way?"

A blush crept up on Hermione's face, embarrassed that he had said it so loudly. She hoped that her father wasn't awake to hear that.

"You're insufferable sometimes, you know that, right?"

"Fíli tells me everyday."

A hand snaked over to her thigh once more, squeezing it. Startled, Hermione jolted up and toppled out of her chair, landing hard on the floor. Sending glares to the laughing Kíli, she grabbed his tunic and pulled him down with her. The dwarf then shrieked - very loudly - alerting the rest of the Company. The first one to enter the kitchen was Thorin (half asleep), sword at the ready, demanding if any hobbit enemies were around.

"No, it's just your insufferable nephew," Hermione stated, playfully shoving a cuddly Kíli away. The dwarf pouted, ignoring the curious looks from the Company. "He thought it would be best to surprise me, so I fell out of my seat. I rightfully pulled him down after."

Thorin, however, did not look amused. "Well, thank you for waking us up. We should have been out of here twenty minutes ago."

"Sorry," both muttered under their breath, aware of the scrutinizing expression Thorin wore. With a huff, the mighty king went back into the living room to wake up the rest of the Company. The lingering bunch (which consisted of Dwalin and Balin) stared at the couple with knowing looks.

Kíli snapped. "What?"

"Nothing, laddie. It's just the next time you wish to be alone with your intended, make sure that you aren't in a stranger's house with a group of dwarrows in the other room," Dwalin replied with a wink. Hermione blushed fiercely as Balin and Dwalin left the room, chuckling.

* * *

Gandalf had met them at the Green Dragon where their ponies awaited. Hermione's pony was a chestnut colored mare named Rosie, who seemed to really enjoy apples. After the slight breakfast the Company had, it was decided to take the bags of apples, thinking that Bilbo would have no use of them. On deaf ears, Hermione explained that if he didn't come, then he might need them. It was then decided (at Bilbo's name) that a bet was to take place in regards to if the hobbit came or not. Many betted against him, primarily the Ri brothers, as well as Hermione. To her, the hobbit didn't seem like a creature to go out on an adventure, especially a dangerous one.

"You'll be wishing you didn't think that," Kíli had said, bringing his pony up next to her.

"Trust me, he's not destined to be out in the wild. He'll get killed," she replied smartly, jingling her bag of coins. Kíli snorted.

"No, he's itching for adventure," he replied, jingling his own coin purse. "Be prepared to give me five silver pieces when he comes. I'll prove you wrong for once."

"That's not likely."

"You want to bet?"

"We're already betting."

"No, I meant just between you and me."

"We're already betting money."

"No, I want to wager something else," he stated lowly, enough to cause Hermione's interest to pique. Glancing around, she saw her Da far behind her, talking jovially with her Uncle Bombur. With a nod, Hermione told him to come closer so she could hear. In a whisper he offered, "if I win, I get to kiss you whenever and wherever I want on this quest."

Hermione scoffed. "That's the best you can do?"

"Whenever and wherever I want," he stated again. "When I saw wherever I mean wherever."

"Fine," she replied, unperturbed. "If I win you get to stop acting so touchy in public."

Kíli contemplated for a moment, dark eyes narrowed. "Fine," he said, "I'll stop being myself for your sake. Just don't complain when you actually want attention, and I don't give it to you."

The trip had been going well, with Hermione and the others winning. Bilbo had yet to show up, and they were almost out of the Shire. Turning around to Kíli, she childishly stuck her tongue out at him, claiming victory. The prince shook his head, indicating that they still had time left. Hermione didn't agree with him. If the hobbit really wanted to come, he would have been there by now. At least, the goal was that once they were out of the Shire, the winnings would be divided.

It wasn't ten minutes later when said hobbit barreled into the forest with the contract in his hand. Hermione groaned loudly when Kíli sauntered up to her on his pony and screamed in her ear, "I win!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **first of all, I wish to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this story. It means a lot that many are reading ana enjoying it. Secondly, I have to admit that this chapter is relatively short, but I felt like writing it. The next chapter is when things start to pick up (as it'll be Roast Mutton). Thirdly, I had to change the rating of the story because of how I'm going to be writing it. At first, I didn't think I'd include some love scenes, but I've changed my mind and will include them. Hermione/Kíli's relationship is important and I won't hesitate to put some smut in.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

One of Kíli's favorite things to do was whisper sweet nothings into Hermione's ear to make her blush. She would then proceed to melt into his side with a longing sigh, a sign that allowed him to place a chaste kiss upon her lips. He would play that game anytime he wanted something, and she knew. So when they were alone in the forest, he took the opportunity to whisper his favorite sayings into her ear. As planned, she leaned against his chest with a sigh, and he seized the chance to kiss her.

He hand brushed against her cheek, fingers urging her to look at him. Hermione met his gaze wearing a longing expression on her face. Kíli took this as permission and pressed his lips against hers. Chastely he kissed her, open mouthed, peppering her lips with his. Hermione moaned against him, yearning for more. Tilting his head to he side, he pressed a bit deeper, drawing her in. He cradled her face in both his hands, and she shivered against his touch.

She had been the one to pull away, much to his chagrin. She started up at him with starry eyes, laced with desire. "We can't do anything here. We'll get caught."

Kíli ignored her concern as he plopped down on the ground, bringing her with him. He held his gaze on her as he leaned into her and darted his tongue on her bottom lip. Hermione sighed, her breath caught in her throat. Biting down, Kíli took her bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling ever so gently. Hermione once against melted into his chest with a loving moan escaping her lips.

Panting, Hermione climbed on top of his thigh, pulling her cloak off, revealing her tunic and trousers. His hands stroked down her sides and rested on her hips. The two gazed at one another, eyes filled with lust and desire. It wasn't until Kíli smirked when he flexed his thigh, eliciting a sharp groan from her. Experimentally he rolled his thigh once more, and another groan escaped her lips. He took control of her hips, forcing her to grind against his thigh.

"Oh, Kíli," she breathed, burying her hands in his unruly hair. He began to tug at her tunic hem, hands ghosting her stomach. It wasn't until her voice grew louder he knew something was wrong. "Kíli! Kíli wake up!"

Kíli woke up with Hermione hovering over him with a concerned expression on her face. The dwarf lass had her unruly curls pulled back in a tight braid, her courting braid tucked safely behind her ear. He sputtered for a moment before feeling a familiar ache within his trousers, causing him to groan.

"Are you alright?" she asked, eyebrows knitted together. Kíli nodded, growing red from what he realized what was going on and wishing he could take care of it privately. "Okay, good. Bombur is making some breakfast. I suggest you get up before he eats it all."

Hermione stared down at him, curious to see if he was going to get up. When he didn't, she asked why. Remaining quiet, Kíli looked away from her, refusing to meet her gaze. Unfazed by the action, Hermione harrumphed before going back to the small gathering around Bombur. She failed to notice him go discreetly behind a tree with Fíli laughing hysterically about it.

* * *

Later on in the evening they set up camp for the night, located on a rocky outcrop in the Lone-Lands. The sky darkened as the fire flickered; the dwarves sat around (some asleep), busying themselves with different tasks. Thorin lay with his back against the rock. Ori fiddled around with his leather bound book. Gandalf sat with his back against a boulder, smoking his pipe. Bombur slept with moths floating in and out of his mouth. Hermione lay next to her Da, who was whittling away on a fresh block of wood. The air felt cold, but the dwarves didn't seem to mind. It was a peaceful night, until...

A loud shriek pierced the air, alerting everyone of a presence. Hermione bolted awake, wondering what on earth made that sound. Kíli, however, seemed to know.

"Orcs," he stated, pipe in his hand.

"Orcs?" Bilbo repeated, terrified.

"Throat cutters," Fíli supplied with a haunted look on his face. Bilbo gulped loudly, and Hermione found herself inching closer to her father. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The Lone-Lands are crawling with them."

Kíli continued for his brother. "They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet. No screams, just lots of blood."

"Do you think that's funny?" Thorin demanded from his perch. The boys stopped their evident glee. "Do you think a night raid by Orcs is a joke? You know nothing of the world."

Hermione agreed with Thorin, with her Da's arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Don't listen to 'em, dear. They're just tryin' to scare the hobbit, that's all. We're perfectly safe, aren't we boys?" Bofur asked loudly, and the two nodded in agreement.

"Perfectly safe," Kíli parroted.

"No Orcs tonight," chimed in Fíli.

Hermione still shuddered, suddenly growing cold. It wasn't until Balin began to weave a familiar tale did she feel relatively normal.

Balin began his story for Bilbo. "Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thrór tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria, but our enemy had got their first.

"Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race, Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king, Thrain. Thorin's father was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed. We did not know. We were leaderless, defeated and death were upon us.

"That is when I saw him, the young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of adjoin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs back; our enemy had been defeated, but there was no feast or songs that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived, and I thought too myself then, 'There is one I could follow. There is one I could call king."'

Hermione's eyes twinkled from the firelight that night as she thought of the tale that had been told to her many times. Many times had she pictured the battlefield with all the dead warriors on both sides. A gruesome picture was painted in her mind, and many a time did she shake her head to be rid of it. There was one image, however, that would never leave her mind. Thorin Oakenshield, standing tall and proud against a large, pale Orc, had only a measly branch as protection. Obviously, she thought, it wouldn't have been so measly as it protected him, but it was the forever thought within her mind.

"Da?" she asked quietly when all of the dwarves stared in awe at the dwarf king. Bofur looked down at his daughter, eyebrows lifted in curiosity. "Do you think we'll come across something like the Pale Orc?"

"I don't know, dearie," he replied solemnly. "I truly hope we don't."

* * *

**End Note: **I'm** _really_ **looking for a beta read. I'm in dire need of one. If you're interested, please message me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: Thank you all for the responses and the follows and the favorites. It means a lot that people are enjoying this story. Secondly, I'd like to say that this chapter took a while for me to write. The first part of the usual smut I wish to through in randomly, as I ship Hermione/Kíli too much. It might not be good smut, but it's some sort of smut nevertheless. Truthfully, I'm just trying to get this out of my head. The second part is Roast Mutton where we get to see Hermione's powers. The latter part of just some information given through storytelling. I thought it was about time that Bilbo gets to know who exactly Hermione, daughter of Bofur, truly is. Oh, I'm still in need of a Beta reader. I don't know how to get one, so I'm hoping that a reader would step up and help!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. If I did, the two would totally be together and no one would die (except for Voldemort at a much early convenience).

* * *

**Chapter Four**

The Company decided to stop for a short bath, one Hermione thought was needed. She sighed as she dipped her foot into the warm water, ignoring the chuckling from her companion. With one eye open, the witch glared at Kíli, who floated merrily on his back in the river. Soap in hand, Hermione sat down towards the edge of the river, waist deep in water. Kíli watched in amusement as the witch began to wash herself with the bar of soap, starting first with her feet. His eyes followed the small bar of soap go from her feet to her exposed legs, free of any hair (something he didn't understand, as hair was very important to dwarves). Traveling up the soap went, to her thighs to eventually between her legs. Kíli felt a small growl escape his throat as she stared at him, bright eyes never leaving his dark.

"You're teasing me," he stated coldly, feeling his cock twitch. Hermione shrugged, bringing the soap to her belly, where she tried to reach behind her back. Greedily, and eyes filled with lust, he offered, "Here, let me."

The young dwarf swam over to the bank, taking the soap out of Hermione's hand. Motioning her to turn around, he perched the witch between his legs, wrapping an arm around her waist. She tried not to groan when she felt him harden against her back. Casually he stated, "If you needed help, all you had to do was ask."

"Maybe I didn't want your help for once," she replied, biting her lip when the bar of soap reached the valley between her breasts. "Just because you're clean...I can bathe myself you know."

He chuckled, the laughter rumbling deep within his chest. Hermione squeaked when his fingers playfully pinched her nipple as his other hand brought the soap up to her neck. "I swear on all things Äule created, you're teasing me now."

"Could be worse," he stated with merriment laced in his voice. "I could be having my way with you right now if it wasn't for the fact that Fíli's not even standing twenty feet away."

The offer, however, sounded enticing.

"Maybe you should," she whispered.

"I can't, knowing that Fíli is right there. Maybe tonight we can try a little something? We can be quick about it," he suggested, purposely ignoring the groan that escaped her mouth. "A little moonlight go about, perhaps? It won't seem odd if we're gone for a few minutes."

"I don't want a few minutes," she protested as he lathered the soap in his hands. Soon they were in her hair, carefully kneading the dark, curly locks. "I want a few hours from you."

She couldn't see it, but he shook his head in disagreement. "We won't ever get a few hours to ourselves. It's daring enough we're doing this. You know how hard it is to sneak away from Thorin, who is constantly watching over me? He's becoming an overbearing parent."

"Like my Da," Hermione replied quietly, thinking of her over zealous father. When he was done washing her hair, she dunked her underwater, releasing the soap from her curls. Sputtering when coming back up, she squeaked when his teeth found her neck. She purred, "Maybe a little bit of time for ourselves now isn't a bad idea..."

It wasn't until a rustle from the nearby bush did they realize that their time was up. Tentatively, Fíli told them, "Thorin can't get Bofur to get anymore tasks; he's wondering what's taking the two of you so long. I think it's time you finish up, yeah?"

Hermione groaned as Kíli laughed. "Did I mention that Thorin is also helping me a bit?"

"So embarrassing," Hermione mumbled under her breath, standing up from the river. Kíli gripped one of her thighs and stared up at her from his sitting position. A playful grin graced his features as he began to kiss the inside of her thigh, throwing it over his shoulder in the process. Hermione struggled to get out of his grip, but before she knew it, his tongue danced along the sensitive territory between her legs. Placing her hands on his shoulders for support she groaned, "You couldn't have done that before? Your brother is right over there for crying out loud!"

"So touchy," he murmured, tongue darting against her sensitive bud. A tremor shot through her body, and she leaned into him for more support. "Ah, it seems like I managed to find some treasure on this quest."

"You bloody tease!" she hissed, ignoring the chuckling coming from between her legs. Another dart of his tongue had her lose her footing, tumbling on top of him. With a grunt he took her leg off of him, much to the happiness of his partner. He stood up from the ground and quickly pressed his wet, aching body against hers. Hermione shook her head at his audacity. "We can't even have a simple bath without teasing one another. What are we going to do when we're married?"

"Not sneak around for one," he stated, lips back on her neck. "C'mon, let us go before Fíli has to come over here and pry us apart."

Hermione snorted. "Never have I heard you say something so earnestly."

* * *

That evening the wizard left them on their own, claiming that he wished to be in his own company. Hermione sighed wearily when Thorin began to tell the others what to do. Fíli and Kíli were told to watch the ponies; Uncle Bombur and her Da were told to start dinner; Óin and Glóin were told to start the fire. Bifur elected to take up the perimeter with his boar spear with Dwalin, leaving Hermione, the Ri brothers, Balin, and Bilbo to go about their own thing without upsetting Thorin. It was easier said than done, for not even five minutes after Thorin sat down, he told Dori to make a batch of tea while they all waited for dinner to be done. The connoisseur had no problem with that, until he realized that he was out of tea leaves, leaving Thorin to fester, thinking that his Company couldn't even carry tea leaves. That left Hermione to take out her wand, eying him, daring him to complain some more, brandishing her wand like the fool she was. He didn't even notice the birch twig, but one of the Company members did.

"What is that?" Bilbo asked, pointing to her wand. Hermione waved it around, and a few sparks erupted from the tip of it. Bilbo pulled back, half confused and half in awe. "W-What on earth was that?"

"That was magic, halfling," Thorin rumbled from his seat, eying the hobbit with indifference. Bilbo gawped at the young witch.

"Gandalf didn't tell me you could do magic!" he exclaimed.

Hermione shrugged before replying, "There hasn't been that many times where I found the need to us it. After all, there's only so much I could do with this little stick."

"So what you did to me back in my home, that was magic?"

"Yes," Hermione said, twirling the birch stick between her fingers. "I can do some magic wandless, but not a lot. What I did to you was called a Cheering Charm. It was created to make the individual being cast on extremely happy. It only worked momentarily on you because something stressful happened to you after."

Bilbo took a few moments to take it all in, quite confused while his Tookish nature made him all more the curious. "What else can you do?"

For the next few minutes, Hermione put on a little magic show for the hobbit, showing him all types of magical tricks she had learned. She started with the basic spell, the Wingardium Leviosa spell, levitating some small pebbles. Then she tried for something a little more difficult, like the boulder sitting behind Thorin. Mesmerized, Bilbo began to clap for the young witch, asking for more. Soon she was trying more advanced magic, like the Patronus Charm, thinking mainly about her family. A blush crept upon her face when she thought about the morning dip, but that didn't falter the otter that erupted from the tip of her wand. Instead, the otter darted into the small patch of forest where Fíli and Kíli were, and Kíli's laughter soon could be hear. Blushing profusely, Hermione ended the spell, much to the dislike of the hobbit.

"So you can do anything?" he asked, awe laced in his voice. Hermione shook her head.

"I wish, but no. There's only so much I can do," she said, that time using her wand to create small baubles of fire. She held a bauble in her hand and explained, "This can't hurt you. It's designed as a light and heat source, not a way to harm. It's one of my favorite spells."

"What's it called?"

"Well, the book called it the Blue Bell Flames," she replied, extinguishing the bauble by squeezing the palm of her hand. Bilbo nodded, still in awe. "I can even use magic to defend myself, but it's a bit hard to do so here. I don't need Orcs or goblins figuring out that there's a witch out here."

Bilbo's mouth dropped. "But that sounds like a lovely way to live! Certainly you allow yourself to use some magic as a mean of defense."

"No," Hermione said sadly, taking a glance at Thorin. The king looked right back at her, lips dipped into a frown. "It's decided that I'm not to use my magic within battle, unless it's an emergency. Besides," there she paused and picked up her heavy javelin. The wooden weapon made Bilbo flinch back, the metal tip glinting in the fire light. "I have this to protect me. I can almost wield this better than a wand."

"A javelin is no instrument for a lady," Bilbo stated.

"The wilderness is no place for a lady, but I'm still here."

"Right you are," Bofur commented from his seat. He stood up and handed Bilbo two bowls of hot stew. "Here, do us a favor and take this to the lads. Mahal knows that they must be starving."

The Company watched Bilbo disappear into the foliage where the boys were staying. Hermione busied herself with cleaning the handle of her wand with the hem of her tunic. It wasn't until Fíli and Kíli burst into the clearing did she realize that something was wrong.

"Trolls!" Fíli breathed, startling everyone.

"We left Bilbo with them!" Kíli replied, albeit a little too proudly. Thorin's mouth dropped at the realization before he began telling everyone to take up arms. Hermione, busy picking up her javelin and pocketing her wand, was stopped by her Da.

"Yer not goin' with us."

"But Da, I can fight!" she exclaimed, but one look from her Da told her otherwise. Annoyed, the young witch huffed before sitting back down on the log. She watched as each dwarf went off into the night after some trolls and their hobbit.

After waiting for what it seemed like an eternity, Hermione decided to venture out. Slowly she went, wand in hand, into the forest. Soon she came across the three trolls with all of the dwarves in sacks! A bit frightened and finding it just a smidgen funny (all of them were tied up, after all), Hermione crept behind the large boulder and hid her small body behind it. She watched in horror as the hobbit tried to stall for time, as they were stone trolls afraid of the dawn.

"The trick is to skin them first!" came his response, and the fiery response from the dwarves wasn't surprising.

Charging into battle wasn't a smart idea, so Hermione began to plot. Slowly an idea formed in her mind, and she half wondered if it was going to work.

Bringing her wand to her throat, she thought of the spell and cast it in her mind. Booming, she yelled, "How dare you take those dwarves from me!"

"Who's there?" one of the trolls demanded while the dwarves (minus Bofur) looked relieved.

"Get back to the camp!" he hollered on deaf ears.

Hermione, however, continued. "It is I, the great Trollshaws Queen! You dare take my meal from me?"

"Oi! Just where are you?" another troll wondered, and Hermione quickly made her way from behind the boulder to a cluster of trees.

"Never mind where I am, you dumb fools!" she said, voice trembling. Oh Äule, how she hoped it would work! "You took my dwarves! I want them back!"

"Show yerself!" the first troll demanded. When Hermione didn't step into the clearing, he scoffed. "That's right, my pretty. Show yerself and you'll get yer meal back! Maybe even an 'usband!"

Hermione panicked, as it wasn't part of her plan. Soon, however, Gandalf showed up and (fortunately) saved the day with his own magic. Breaking a boulder with his staff, the sun soon entered the clearing, turning the trolls into stone, Hermione signed from her spot in the cluster of trees, relieved that no one had died. With her help, soon the dwarves were untied and placed in their own clothing. Her Da came up to her, fury written across his usually cheerful demeanor.

"Just wha was tha?" he asked, voice low. Hermione shrugged before Gandalf came up from behind and clasped her on the back.

"I think, Master Dwarf, your daughter and Master Baggins saved you from being eaten!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the delay, but I've been having a massive writer's block for this story. Then at the same time I decided to write a new story, and I'm having a writer's block for that. Luckily I've been managing my Itty Bitty Ori story. That's been easy as it's just consisting of one-shots. As for this chapter, it kind of came out of nowhere, but I thought it would fit. I've mentioned that Bofur was Hermione's father, but I've never explored their relationship. Of course Kíli is mentioned, as I'm going for the overprotective father act. I think Bofur would be a proper candidate for this role. As often as I say it, please read and review. It means a lot when I get some messages in my inbox in regards to my story.

**Disclaimer**: As usual, I don't own anything.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Bofur wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what kind of shenanigans his daughter got into with the youngest prince. He didn't like said shenanigans at all, and he had half a mind to castrate the poor boy because of it. Bofur just wishes that it wasn't so obvious into what they were getting into. Again, he wasn't stupid. Kíli just happened to disappear anytime Hermione went for a wash in the river, and suddenly Bofur was to do many tasks just to keep him occupied. The two lovers tried every night to place their bedrolls next to each other (something that actually wasn't scandalous, but Bofur did his best to keep them apart). Typically Bombur would lie between them with his cheery demeanor, saying that it would be best for Hermione to lie near something warm. Kíli would glare at the rotund uncle before stalking off to his brother to complain loudly and rudely.

Truthfully, Bofur wanted to kill the prince with his bare hands. It was Kíli's fault why his daughter was growing up so quickly. She was just seventy-five, an age considered to be the threshold into proper adulthood. The two had been courting for three years, and they only had seven years left until marriage. The thought shook Bofur's core.

He remembered when Gandalf first came to his home with little Hermione in tow, a stuffed bear clenched in her arms. He recalled the lengthy discussion about Hermione's 'problem.' She was a witch from another world, saved by the Valar after an untimely death. How Gandalf just knew all that confused Bofur, and what confused him even more was why the Valar chose 'him' to take care of such a precious child.

"Because you'd make a wonderful, caring father, Bofur, son of Brogur," the wizard said calmly, using his own magic to create bubbles for Hermione to play with. Bofur stared at the girl for the first time since she entered his home. Her teeth were a bit large, and her hair...well, he could go on about her hair. It was very bushy and too much for the girl. If he was cruel, he'd think a few birds could make a happy home within the curls. Those thoughts, however, never entered his mind, because one smile from her secured the one thought plaguing his mind:

He'd take her in.

Gandalf was happy, of course. With a few promises, the wizard came back every year to see how she was fairing. It wasn't until she was old enough to wield magic did he begin her training, and what training it was!

The old wizard taught her strange words that were actually normal from her world. _Wingardium Leviosa, Stupefy, Locomotor Mortis_...the list went on and on. Gandalf explained those were the spells children her age learned back in her world, and they derived from an old language called 'Latin.' Bofur thought that Latin was quite funny, but Gandalf reminded him that Ancient Khuzdul could be funny as well.

Growing up with Hermione had been interesting to say the least. She was a good child, always doing what she was told. It was the magic that scared Bofur at times. Once in a while biscuits and other treats would disappear, and he'd find Bombur's fresh goods in the hands of Hermione and her friends. Books would float towards her at a snap of her fingers, and when caught by him, she'd explain that she just wished for them. All of that changed once she realized what she truly was, a witch. It was a secret she'd have to keep, but knowing her friends...well, Bofur knew the secrecy wouldn't last.

Her friends were also a curious matter. While girls were far and few in the dwarf kingdom, those her age didn't play with her. Most of them thought they were better than the 'miner's daughter,' as she'd soon become known. It was actually little Ori that became her first friend through their love of books and animals. It also didn't hurt that Bofur was good friends with Nori.

Through Ori, Hermione met Fíli. That came to be a big shock to the miner, as Fíli was royalty to the House of Durin. This friendship soon included Kíli, the younger brother, who couldn't keep his mouth shut or hands to himself. Even at a young age, the youngest heir somehow managed to annoy Bofur. When he was young, Kíli had a habit of pushing Hermione around, doing 'cute' things like taking her toys or pulling her pigtails. Dís thought it to be adorable, claiming that Kíli had a small crush on his daughter. Bofur just thought the boy to be a bully, making his daughter cry nearly every day.

Unfortunately yet fortunately, it all changed when they all started to grow up. Hermione proved to be a proper dwarven lass with a lack of hair (a long conversation she had with her Da about). Supposedly she preferred things from her old world, like that lack of body hair. Bofur nearly fainted when one morning she explained to him that she could grow a beard; she just used magic to get rid of it.

"I'm not comfortable with a beard," she explained shyly that morning. "Where I'm from, body hair wasn't really my thing."

That explained why she never had hair on her legs. A popular thing woman did back in 'London' was to shave their legs. Bofur rolled his eyes at the idea, but he knew he couldn't change his daughter's mind. Whatever made her comfortable was fine with him. It was very odd, but it was fine.

Back to her growing up around boys, Bofur wasn't surprised when one of them began to fall for her. Out of the four boys who surrounded her (as young Gimli soon joined the fray even though he was about ten years younger), it had been Bofur's worse fear when Kíli became interested in his daughter. The loud mouth, spoiled, annoying princeling wasn't subtle about his affections. Many times he came to the door with a bunch of flowers for her, and many times did Bofur slam the door in his face. He also allowed Hermione to be 'dated' by different boys. After Hermione explained the concept to him, he allowed her to do. As long as it wasn't Kíli, his sanity would remain intact.

The boys Hermione did bring home to meet him were nice, but Bofur knew that they wouldn't last. Hermione just wasn't happy with them. The only one who held her attention was the annoying dwarf who loved to pull her hair as a child. They fought loudly. She'd use her magic against him after he'd do something stupid. He'd tackle her to the ground after she done so. She'd enjoy the attention.

One afternoon Bofur just sighed and let the boy in.

Fortunately for Kíli, he proved to be a proper consort. The teasing and hair pulling stopped. He'd bring flowers on a daily basis to her (something Fíli said Dís told him to do if he was serious). Bofur had no choice but to say yes when Kíli asked to court Hermione. They were a perfect match. A politically odd match, but they were a match.

Though when things started to get too serious, Bofur had to put his foot down. Oh, he'd had his own tumble in the haystacks with women, but it wasn't proper for his daughter to do the same thing with a boy she happened to know her whole life.

Bofur didn't know when he became such an old man. Bombur told him it was completely normal for two young dwarves to proclaim their love in such a fashion. The rotund dwarf even admitted that he slept with his own wife before they were married. After that proclamation, Bofur only groaned.

"But she's my daughter," was the only response out of his mouth. Bombur hummed as he stirred the pot of stew, adding a bit of spice to the mixture.

"She's old enough to know what she wants," Bombur explained as he tasted the soup. "Ah, needs a pinch of oregano."

"That doesn't matter. She doesn't know what she wants."

Bombur tutted. "She's only two years away from being of age, so she can choose to do what she wants. If it breaks your heart that much, then sit down and talk to her."

"That's even worse!" Bofur exclaimed, cheeks turning a tinge of red.

So instead of talking with his daughter, the miner began to meddle. He'd have her see Kíli less and less until he was able to cope with them having sex.

The three letter word made him shudder.

"You okay?" Bombur asked quietly. The Company happened to stop in Rivendell, and they were all scattered around the terrace cooking a proper meal. Bofur had been staring off with an unused block of wood in his hands. With a sigh, he turned to his youngest brother, who was busy stuffing his face with sausage.

"I'm thinking of when my daughter grew up," he replied, glancing over at her. She sat across from him with Kíli, both of them with their heads together, whispering. He watched in disgust when Kíli's tongue shot out of his mouth and onto Hermione's nose, the young girl squealing in surprise. "I hate him."

"You don't hate him," Bombur corrected as Bifur joined them. "Bifur, tell Bofur that there's no reason to hate Kíli."

Bifur signed that Kíli was a good lad and that Bofur was just an old fool.

"I'm not an old fool!" Bofur hissed, throwing his block into the fire in front of him. The camp grew quiet as they watched their jovial miner break out in anger. Hermione in particular frowned and moved away from her intended, the boy frowning and trying to scoot closer to her.

_Yes you are. He loves her, and that's all that matters_, Bifur signed, ending the conversation. Bofur huffed, ignoring the pointed look from his brother. With a sigh, the miner got up from his seat and moved over to their bedrolls. Snuggling deeply into his, he turned his back on the merry gathering, readying himself to fall asleep. He did, however, hear the small whisper from the youngest prince,

"When will he stop hating me?"

Dwalin snorted loudly. "Possibly never."

"Dwalin," Hermione chided, glaring at the backside of her father. "He's just being a parent, that's all."

"He should be glad his daughter's consort is Kíli of all dwarves!" Dwalin supplied on deaf ears. Thorin, however, began to contemplate. He knew very well that the miner didn't like his nephew, or he was reminded whenever Kíli was around Hermione. With a shake of his head, the king to be decided to leave it up to time. He couldn't force the adult to like Kíli, and Thorin could understand the parental side of the equation. There had been many girls Fíli had brought home that he didn't like. It was a miracle that Thorin even liked Hermione, but she proved to be a smart dwarven girl despite her lack of facial hair (and he recoiled when it was found out why she didn't have any). With a sigh, he watched as Kíli tried to get into Hermione's good graces that night but failed miserably. The witch just didn't want him near her.


End file.
